


Key to My Heart

by Demytasse



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drabble, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Moving In Together, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Shizaya - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 20:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demytasse/pseuds/Demytasse
Summary: Izaya loses the key to his apartment thanks to Shizuo, but suspects it'll work out to his benefit anyway.With the way that Shizuo abruptly removed himself from the bed, it seemed like an act of desperation to flee the scene of an accidental one night stand. Since their first time was more of a drunken stumble through an awkward romp in the sack, it could have easily inspired Shizuo to run from the consequence of their affair. But as the two continued well beyond tens of what could have been marked as mistakes, it made Izaya wonder if he actually meant to put an end to their weekly tousles or if the way he woke was just a Shizuo-ism.---In response to allshewhispers for her Drabble Challenge prompt from Tumblr. It spiraled out of control and became a oneshot rather than a bloody drabble. *throws up arms*Prompt: “Show me what’s behind your back.”





	Key to My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allshewhispers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allshewhispers/gifts).



> Sometimes I have the weirdest hooks for my fics. I have no idea why I'm like this...

The dial tone that played over Izaya’s cell speaker mocked him. He had already restarted the monotonous song three times and had began to pattern the impatient tap of his fingers after the incessant beeps.

Had he not been in a fairly pleasant mood he would have started to count the minutes that his secretary neglected answer her phone in order to dock her pay appropriately; had he not been running sparse of time, he would have given up with a shrug and an ‘ _oh well_ ’. Izaya was neither at the moment so as he heard the professionally terse voicemail recording yet again, a redial was in preparation.

Fourth time, unlike the idiom stated, was the charm as a click and an unspoken greeting interrupted the second beep and caused Izaya to jump in his chair, now alert.

   “Ah, Namie-san, it’s nice to finally hear your voice on this fine morning.”

If anything was muttered on the other end of the line the phone didn’t pick up on it. Izaya took the cue to continue.

   “This might seem like a cheap plot point from a prime-time sitcom, but spare me your sarcastic remarks. As ridiculous as it sounds, I can’t leave my apartment due to my inability to lock the door from the outside,” he chirped.

   _“You’re right. It does seem like you're jumping the shark with that excuse to drag me into work on a weekend._ ” Namie huffed.

   “Hey now, what did I say about that sarcasm? Besides, why would I make something like that up? I’m more upfront than most people think I am.”

An empty sigh roughed up the receiver and Izaya found himself lucky that she didn't immediately hang up.

   _“Dare I ask how this happened?”_

   “Would you believe me if I said that I lost possession of my key due to unforeseen circumstances?”

   _“I should have known that you would immediately go from being upfront to hiding the truth behind lies.”_

   “Harsh! Honestly though, I _have_ lost my key and I need to leave in an hour and a half for a meeting. I need you here before then with a duplicate of your key,” he spoke with a concise tone that played down his anxiousness.

   _“_ Honestly, _nothing would humour me more than you missing your appointment. Tell me what really happened or I won’t come over there, Izaya.”_

Already behind schedule, the informant hummed while he expediently battled the pros and cons of rewinding his morning for Namie. Reclined in his office chair, a leg over the other, Izaya rocked back and forth with a nervous twitch of his foot. He was reluctant to tell the real story, but decided to compromise with a deviation from lying entirely.

   “Alright, I’ll play along.”

   _“Keep it short.”_

   “Please, you speak as though I don’t know how to keep my thoughts appropriately brief.”

Namie coughed.

   “Fine, fine,” Izaya sighed, “How did I even get into this mess? Oh _that’s_ right! It started the same as always: with an aggressive bartender that managed to invade my apartment...”

 

 

Up to this point, Izaya had shared his bed with Shizuo well past a handful of times, better described as a spill from one’s hands into the other’s. It was more than enough time to build a tolerance for most of the brute’s less appealing sleeping habits. While some he could deal with, others were harder to forgive.

As it would seem, Shizuo's violent tendencies weren’t exclusive to when he was conscious. The severity of his attacks were decreased for sure, but the hefty drop of his arm over Izaya's shoulders or his unpredictable shoves to the edge of the bed were just as annoying as his full-fledged attacks. However those nuisances were easy to retaliate, so it was more the shock that got to him if anything.

His completely intolerable quirk was his rooster-like instincts that woke the beast at undesired hours like clockwork. Izaya was glad he didn't crow out an alarm upon the filter of sunlight through the windows, but Shizuo’s inconsiderate lug off the mattress was equally jarring. As he did so without mind of his bed partner it especially grated against his nerves.

The insomniac info broker wasn't a talented sleeper to begin with, but on the occasions when the two partook of heated sleepovers he was afterwards knocked out with more success than a pill could ever hope to achieve. And yet when the blond woke at the crack of dawn, the brunet was soon to follow.

With the way that Shizuo abruptly removed himself from the bed, it seemed like an act of desperation to flee the scene of an accidental one night stand. Since their first time was more of a drunken stumble through an awkward romp in the sack, it could have easily inspired Shizuo to run from the consequence of their affair. But as the two continued well beyond tens of what could have been marked as mistakes, it made Izaya wonder if he actually meant to put an end to their weekly tousles or if the way he woke was just a Shizuo-ism.

What clued Izaya to reevaluate his assessment was the patterned way that Shizuo prepared himself to leave after he tossed the covers away. He’d gather up his clothing in a specific order that he never strayed. First acquired was his pre-wrinkled shirt, followed by his worn-in slacks, his slightly faded vest, and always ended with his bowtie; each article was a cross on his checklist as if to prevent him from forgetting his beloved uniform and seemed more organized than Izaya would suspect him to be.

Regardless of how he procured them, Shizuo would shove himself into his garments in a jumbled order before he headed to the doorway while he did up his fly and secured his buttons. It was both a show and lack of care; a hilarious contradiction of habits.

The part of his agenda that tickled Izaya’s curiosity the most was his stall at the exit. With his fingers laid on the handle, body faced forward, Shizuo would glance back to whom he left behind. Izaya was always in keen observation at this point, but all Shizuo knew was that he watched the other as he slept.

The first morning, his crinkled nose read conflicted, the second through the fifth turned into stoic contemplation, but onward it became the most natural of smiles to ever creep his face. Maybe Izaya was blessed by some god he didn't believe in, because in no other situation did he manage to witness this candid display and it seemed that only divine influence could hide his alert eyes from Shizuo's notice. The brief pause would draw longer with each occurrence, but inevitably ended shorter than Izaya wanted with a bashful escape.

Usually Izaya left him to his own thump down the stairs and unintentionally slam the door, but in current he decided to act on a hunch that he figured was in his favour to follow. Sheets slipped off his back onto the floor as he snatched discarded briefs and tripped his way into them while in pursuit.

From the top of the stairs, Izaya crouched low behind the handrail without much care to hide. If he was caught, he was caught. He’d roll with it and have some fun, but the strategy proved useless as Shizuo barely had control of his faculties, let alone spacial awareness, and stumbled into the kitchen.

While stationary he ran his bleary eyes across the countertops. Izaya pondered what the other could possibly be looking for with an inquisitive raised brow.

Within seconds the blond located his sought item and jumped to wrap his grip around it. He brought his prize up close to observe. A jingle and catch of light helped Izaya identify the unknown: _his keys_.

The minimal accessories made for an easy discern and soon Shizuo wedged a blunt thumbnail into the groove of the ring only to hiss out a curse when he dropped the metal onto the floor with a clatter. The second try at the puzzle allowed a removal of the key from the collection.

A goofy grin spread on Shizuo’s tired face as he pocketed the item and tossed the others away. Izaya restrained himself from a burst of laughter and barely managed a quiet snicker.

   _What a dweeb the usually grumpy bodyguard could be._

As Izaya hoped, Shizuo failed to notice him even with the poor cover of his inescapable humour.

The thief’s dress socks aided a boyish skate across the hardwood over to the front where he shoved his shoes on in haste. A slam shook the door on its hinges per Shizuo's accident, just like Izaya predicted.

 

  
  
   “It's embarrassing to admit, but the beast did indeed best me. He stormed off with my key as payment for something he assumed I did, yet again.”

Izaya sung through the end of his tall tale he created for Namie. It skimmed across the top of his intricate memory of the situation and twisted most of the truth, but all-in-all it shared the important facet of Shizuo leaving with his key. There was no use to reveal the intimate details of his rendezvous with Shizuo.

   _“And you let him leave with it.”_ She replied dryly with near disbelief.

   “I did.”

   _“So it's your own fault.”_

   “If you want to narrow blame onto one person it would seem appropriate to tag the thief. But I suppose you'll only ever accuse me so… Probably, yes.”

Namie groaned into the speaker. Izaya knew that the particular version used was in accompaniment of a deep tissue massage of her temple.

   _“You can call a locksmith to come change the lock then. I'm not heading all the way over there for something you could have avoided.”_

Izaya hummed in thought, “I can’t do that, though.”

   _“Yes you can. You’re an informant. Put your ‘_ skills’ _to good use and Google a professional.”_

   “Ah, that's not what I meant.”

   _“...”_

The silence held for few moments as the two respectively sussed out what was taken from the comment and what the ascertained meant.

Izaya cleared his throat unnecessarily.

   “Well, I suppose I’m just going to have to reschedule this appointment or see if they can Skype. Take care of the key situation before you come in on Monday.” His phone already lowered from his ear, he added a dismissive wish, “enjoy your weekend, Namie-san.”

   _“You've got to be kidding me--”_

 

 

Late in the evening a surprisingly soft click of the front door revealed a nervous blond that skulked into the entry of the apartment.

He was dressed in an outfit entirely casual rather than his usual professional; a loose fitted t-shirt showed a sliver of his belt from where he lazily tucked a corner of the hem into his slim jeans. His designer sneakers, that he clearly hadn’t bought himself, were toed off so he could walk into the open as if he naturally belonged in the space while he dampened his heavy steps with difficulty.

The floorboards creaked beneath his wobbled step, but he didn’t pause until his presence was called out.

   “How strange it is for Shizu-chan to bark up my tree two nights in a row, let alone waltz into my apartment without my assistance at the door.”

Shizuo froze. He refrained from a snap of his attention towards the occupied couch to strategize an appropriate response.

   “...the door was unlocked.”

His eyes made brief contact with Izaya’s before they took to another object in the room.

   “Oh~?” An amused smile crept closer to half-massed eyes while his brows remained neutral. ”Maybe I was absent minded when I re-entered my apartment this morning. Funny story, I tried to leave for an appointment in the city, but when I went to lock the door…”

Shizuo winced as a tell of what he knew would follow.

   “...my key was missing! It was unfortunate that I had to reschedule my meeting as I wasn’t able to locate it. You know how dangerous it is for a man of my profession to leave his apartment door unlocked, even if it’s a highly secured building.”

   “Oh, er, sorry about that.” Shizuo motioned to scratch the back of his head, but caught himself midway and dropped his hand at his side.

   “Why? You’re not to blame.”

   “...right.”

   “Anyway, are you going to show me what's behind your back?”

Izaya pointed his finger in perfect beeline of Shizuo’s hidden possession.

An immediate correction of his posture from slumped to militant, Shizuo attempted to remove suspicion and received an sarcastic head tilt from the accuser.

   “Why do you think something’s behind my back?”

   “Well, Shizu-chan, usually you’re more open with the way you walk. You bumble about like an idiot without a care of your appearance. Suddenly, you’re restrained and janky much like a trope criminal in a TV mystery.”

   “Do you have to fuckin’ analyze everything?”

   “It comes naturally, so it's unavoidable,” he shrugged in neglect of his other arm that draped the back of the couch.

   “Just forget it.”

Shizuo started to walk off as if he had a predetermined destination in mind.

   “You're still hiding something.”

   “So?” his head snapped back towards Izaya.

   “He admits it now…” Izaya chuckled.

   “Fuck.”

   “There's no use in hiding it. Besides, all I have to do is go over there to figure it out.”

   “Why don't you walk over and prove it then, hah?”

Annoyance replaced guilt. Accentuated creases formed at Shizuo’s browline in partner with the ones at his lips.

   “I’m lazy.”

   “Yeah, I'm especially not showin’ you now.”

   “What a brat,” he sung.

   “Look who's talkin’!”

   “Come on… I’m going to find out sooner or later.”

   “No shit? That's the point of a surprise, Izaya.”

   “Oh!” A delighted clap and a brightened smile had Izaya scooch to the edge of his seat. “So it's a surprise for me then?”

   “...”

Shizuo grumbled in defeat. The tension at his crooked elbow let up to reveal that his hand held onto an item to which was covered by his fist. Izaya circled his hand in beckon of his company.

With a scoff, Shizuo made a feeble attempt to shield his appreciation for how eager the overly-observant informant was; he walked up and aggressively bumped their kneecaps. No longer in care of keeping distance the blond attacked with a brown paper bag to the brunet’s face.

The back of Izaya’s hand brushed the sharp corner away from his jabbed eye.

   “What's this?”

   “The surprise.”

   “Your surprises are terrible. It's still in the paper bag--”

   “Just fuckin’ open it, flea!”

Still agitated from the scuff of his cornea, Izaya snatched his gift. His eye was dramatically held in a wink and matched his frown. The bag crinkled under his nimble fingers that worked at the egregiously folded top. He peeked inside before he removed a piece of polished metal.

   “Why, it's my missing key,” he held it out to inspect; remainant shavings clung to the sharp edges. “Rather, a new one. You shouldn't have, Shizu-chan!”

   “Shut up! That's not the surprise. Err... well it's part of it.” Shizuo bit his retort while he tugged his shirt up to shove a hand into the pocket taut against his hip bone.

Izaya laughed when he noticed it was the opposite pocket from the one already exposed by tucked fabric.

   “Stop laughing, louse!” Shizuo struggled to dig out the hidden item. He finally managed to pull out a key ring and immediately rifled through the decorations before he held up an assumed twin of what Izaya held.

   “I uh... figured it was time we moved to the next step.”

Izaya darted his glance from their respective keys and back onto Shizuo.

   “ _Next step_? You mean, beyond occasionally indulging in our wack sexual desires?”

   “I guess.”

A worthy moment of silence let the reality settle. Izaya had expected something akin to what Shizuo proclaimed after that morning, but the almost non committal response caught him off guard.

   “You know, normally it’s the apartment owner’s job to offer their key and not the guest's duty to steal and duplicate it.”

   “Yeah well... I wasn't sure if you’d accept.”

   “So you forced it.”

   “Hey, I’m _asking_ you!”

   “Not really. You danced around asking me.”

   “Izaya,” he growled.

   “I’m just saying. Properly follow the semantics, Shizu-chan.”

   “Would ya just answer already?!”

   “Mmm,” Izaya rest a finger on his chin, “No.”

   “Hah!?”

A nod flit dark bangs into Izaya’s eyes. He tilted to the side to slip his new key into his pocket, then retracted back into his previous position.

   “You might as well move in rather than simply having access to my flat.”

Shizuo blinked, “Wait, wait. That's a bit quick... Right?”

   “Are you refusing?”

   “No.”

   “It's not too quick, then.”

The duo mirrored each other’s smile without realizing.

   “So, we’re dating? No,” Shizuo shook his head and looked into space, his hand rested beneath his lip, “that happens before moving in together.”

   “Don't think too hard about it.”

   “We’re a couple, then.”

Izaya was caught off guard for the second time that night, “if you need to title it, I suppose that’s correct.”

Shizuo shrugged, “We hated each other since high school, kinda feels like we need the label so we don’t forget, or something. Ugh, no that sounds dumb--”

   “Then we’re a couple,” Izaya rolled his eyes as if it were originally his offer. It surprised him that it didn’t rile the other.

   “Fuck. That's weird.”

When Shizuo called out the oddity, suddenly it _did_ feel quite weird.

   “Indeed… There's still time to call it off, Shizu-chan.”

   “No! Fuck you, flea! That's not what I meant!”

Izaya was already mid-stretch towards Shizuo who sputtered through his nerves; he eased off the couch just enough to pull the flustered man to rest his knees on the floor beside him. He angled his form to align their sight to reassure his confidence, “sometimes you’re insufferable, Shizu-chan.”

Fingers buried into the blond’s hair and massaged a path to the back of his head. Izaya invited Shizuo forward into a press of their lips. Their muscles relaxed at the touch. In opposition to their usually frantic attacks, their gentle exchange spoke of how they long desired something more sentimental.

It was technically their first kiss as every other act of intimacy had sexual intent. Neither of them had tried to coerce the other to give into what they both unconsciously knew they wanted even after months had past. Their affair was passionate, but always lacked true emotion, unlike what they showed in the moment with their tender caress of one another.

Space continued to lay between them in respect of their adolescent infatuation they had only wished to act upon several years back. The work of their lips was coy and the flutter of their shared pulse was innocently juvenile and brought a splash of warmth to their cheeks. Izaya’s quirked lips pressed into Shizuo’s joyful beam while they nuzzled closer.  

Off to the side, Izaya walked his fingers over to his intentionally positioned phone; going off instinct he blindly woke the screen and slid his fingertip over to send a prepared text message to his secretary.

   _[Never mind getting my key duplicated. It’s been taken care of.]_

He pushed the cell over the slick leather surface onto the plush rug; the cushioned drop went ignored by the other man crawled over his partner who lay himself back onto the couch. They ditched their act of teenaged romance for a more appropriate indulgence with skilled removal of their shirts and clothes to follow. Relieved chuckles bounced off their chests as they celebrated their newfound relationship with proper exercise of their shared love.

  


Only later would Izaya realize that he saved a draft of his text message rather than sent it when Namie entered the apartment early Monday morning. As her purse dropped to the ground in annoyance, her deadpan stare met the couple that trekked the living room before her; dressed in boxers and mixed-up t-shirts, her presence barely registered as Shizuo boosted his hold on a sleep deprived Izaya that sprawled over his back with a slack grip on his shoulders.

   “...how am I not shocked?”

**Author's Note:**

> Shizuo's strategies are... Well they certainly something.
> 
> As always comments/feedback are both encouraged and appreciated. Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> (p.s. I swear I am working on the next chapter for my other Shizaya fic, 'You're My Favourite Mistake'. ^^;;; )


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